A Thanksgiving Tale
by 554Laura
Summary: A fluffy one shot. Max regales his grandchildren with a story about Thanksgiving when he was a boy. Nope, I still don't own Bones...


_A/N: Max's tale is based on a true incident...the names have been changed to protect the not so innocent...This story is set about five years in the future._

Max Keenan sighed as he sat down heavily on the sofa in his daughter's living room. He was pleasantly tired, feeling the burden of his almost eighty years this evening, but he'd enjoyed his Thanksgiving Day tremendously, even if his daughter had tried to get him to eat some tofurky or whatever the hell that fake bird was. He nodded to himself, satisfied, however, because his son-in-law was a carnivore to the core and had insisted on some real turkey for their meal. Add to that the candied sweet potatoes, dressing, and pumpkin pie, and Max was a very happy man.

Now it was time for a little bit of rest. Max leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes, hoping to take a little nap. He was just dozing off when he was jolted awake by a small hand and a loud squeal.

"Grandpa! Grandpa Max! Wake up! You said you were gonna tell me and Chrissy a story about the old days, remember?" Little Hank Booth pulled on his grandfather's sweater. "You said you'd tell us after dinner…you promised..."

"Hank! Leave your grandfather alone! He's obviously tired.", Brennan scolded from the kitchen while she and Booth did the dishes. She glared at her boisterous son as he bounced on the couch next to Max. "Your grandfather doesn't want to tell you a story right now. Let him rest. He can tell you a story later this evening."

Max waved off his daughter's protest. "Aw, let him be, Tempe. Of course I want to tell my grandkids a story if they want to hear one. Where's your brother and sister, Hank? Oh, there they are. C'mere, kiddos." Christine sat down on one side of Max, and Hank sat on the other. Parker came into the room and sat down in a chair across from the sofa. Smiling at his grandchildren, Max began his tale.

"Okay, so you want to hear a story about when I was a little boy, right? Okay, so this story takes place in 1947…"

"Wow, Grandpa...that was a long time ago." Christine's eyes were wide with surprise. "That was even before Mommy was born…"

Chuckling as he saw the grimace on his daughter's face, Max nodded in agreement. "Yes, that was definitely before your mommy was born, Christine. So anyway, I was almost six. You kids remember that my birthday is around Thanksgiving, right?"

"Yeah!" Hank was squirming with excitement. "Mommy got you a big present. Do you want to know what it is? I'm not s'posed to tell, 'cause it's a secret, but…"

"Hank!", Parker hissed as he put his finger to his lips. "Shush...It's a surprise...you can't tell Grandpa yet because it's not his birthday yet. Your mom will get mad..."

"Parker's right, Hank...you better not tell me and ruin Mommy's surprise for me. Anyway, my birthday isn't the real point of the story." Max patted Hank's head as he continued to reminisce. "I was almost six, and it was Thanksgiving Day. The house smelled so good with all the food that was cooking, so I wandered into the kitchen to see what my mama was doing, hoping to steal a bite of something to eat because I was so hungry." Max smiled at his grandchildren. "I can still remember my mama wearing her good pink apron over her nice blue dress as she stirred the giblet gravy. I sneaked a piece of apple...or I thought I did, because I'm pretty sure she knew I had it, but she didn't say anything about it. So I ate my piece of apple, and then I asked her why we had Thanksgiving Day. Do you know what she told me?"

Max's grandchildren shrugged and shook their heads as they tried to imagine the conversation.

"Your great grandmama told me that at our house we celebrated Thanksgiving because of my birthday." Max chuckled a bit as he saw how surprised his grandchildren were. "She said that they were thankful for me...she and Papa were thankful that I'd been born, and that's why she and Papa celebrated the holiday. I tell you what, that made me feel pretty special, having a whole holiday with a big meal just for me…"

"That's a nice story, Grandpa." Christine giggled as her grandfather tickled her ear.

"Well, that's not the end of the story, Honey..." Max laughed and shook his head at the memory of what happened next. "...because I went back to school on the Monday after the Thanksgiving break and told my first grade teacher, Miss Hopkins, that she had been wrong about Thanksgiving, because she'd told us some crazy story about Pilgrims and Native Americans coming together for a feast over two hundred years ago, and that tradition became the basis for the holiday. I told her that she'd made a mistake...that Thanksgiving had nothing to do with Pilgrims...that we had Thanksgiving because of my birthday."

"Oh, wow…", Parker gasped, as he began to grin. "I bet that didn't go over well with your teacher…"

"You're right about that, Parker, especially when Miss Hopkins tried to explain the story to me again, and instead of listening to her, I told her that she was a stupid woman if she believed that dumb Pilgrim story was true. I got mad and argued loudly with her, and I ended up in the principal's office, where I sat for the rest of the day. Then, as punishment for being rude, I had to stay after school everyday for a week, and I had to write an apology to my teacher."

"That's not fair!", Christine cried. "You just believed what your mother had told you."

"Well, Honey, it wasn't actually the mistake that got me in trouble. I got in trouble for arguing with Miss Hopkins and telling her she was stupid. You can't talk to teachers that way at school without getting into trouble. Remember that…" Max gave his grandchildren a pointed look to make sure they understood the moral of the story.

"Was Great Grandmama mad?" Hank's bottom lip trembled a bit. "Did you get in trouble at home?" Hank knew first hand what kind of trouble was to be had at home if a boy got in trouble at school.

"Mama wasn't happy that I'd argued with my teacher and called her names, but she understood why I'd made my mistake. I remember her laughing and saying that it was the first time I ever listened to her and then I got in trouble for it." Grinning, Max rubbed his hands together. "So that's my story about the old days. Now...who's up for a game of Monopoly?"

"Me! I'll go get the box!" Parker and Christine went to the closet to find the game as Max gave Hank a squeeze before getting up and walking into the kitchen for a glass of water.

"Dad…", Brennan began, tilting her head to one side as she watched him move slowly around the kitchen. "I thought you said you didn't have any family as a boy, and I don't remember you saying much about my grandparents. It was nice to hear that story, even if it's surprising to hear you tell it."

Max gave his daughter a hug and sighed. "That's really the only real strong memory I have of my Mama. She was only thirty when she died from pneumonia the following spring, and losing her that young about killed Papa. He tried to raise me alone, but he lost himself in the bottle, if you know what I mean. He couldn't take care of me right, so I went to live with Mama's parents after a while, but they were old, and they both died a few years later, when I was about eleven. I was pretty much on my own after that, moving around from relative to relative while I went to school, until I married your mom, and you know the rest of what happened after that." Max ran a finger under his eyes, trying to brush away his tears. "It was a long time ago, Honey, and I probably wouldn't have said anything about my folks except I promised the kids a story." A commotion in the family room announced that his grandchildren were ready to play a game of Monopoly. "As it is, right now I have all the family I need, and the only stories I really want to tell are the ones about how smart my grandchildren are, okay?"

Brennan and Booth nodded as they smiled to each other. "Sure, Max, whatever you say." Booth slapped his father-in-law on the back. "Hey, happy Thanksgiving, okay?

Max nodded, smiling as he put his glass in the sink and walked back into the family room. "Yeah. Happy Thanksgiving. Now, who's ready to make Grandpa Max a rich man while he wins at Monopoly?"


End file.
